A tree that did not begin here. The pear tree was brought to New Zealand by early European settlers, carried across the ocean as seeds and saplings, planted in the new land. Now it grows in old orchards, in hedgerows, in waste places, a reminder of the people who came and the gardens they made. The pear tree is medium-sized, reaching up to fifteen metres in height, with a conical crown and dark, fissured bark. The leaves are oval, toothed, and arranged alternately along the branches. They are dark green and glossy on top, paler underneath. The flowers are white, appearing in spring, covering the tree in a cloud of petals. The fruit is the story – the pear, sweet and gritty, golden or green, the fruit of autumn. In New Zealand, pear trees have escaped from cultivation. They grow wild along roadsides, in old farmsteads, in the corners of fields that were once orchards. These wild trees are living history, preserving varieties that are no longer grown commercially. A gnarled old pear tree in an abandoned orchard might be a hundred years old, its fruit still sweet, its blossoms still white. The wood of the pear tree is hard, dense, and finely grained. It was used for furniture, for carving, for the ribs of barrels. The fruit was dried, stored, or made into perry. The pear tree was a tree of utility, a tree of the kitchen garden, a tree of the homestead. To see an old pear tree in flower is to see a piece of history. The settlers who planted it are gone, but the tree remains. It blossoms every spring, fruits every autumn, drops its leaves every winter. It does not know that it is a stranger here. It just grows, and blooms, and feeds the birds. The pear tree is not a native. It is not endemic. It is an immigrant, a settler, a tree that made a new home in a new land. It has been here for two hundred years. It will be here as long as the orchards are remembered.